Of Broken Hearts
by big tears
Summary: J&E drabbles. Will had a broken heart, Elizabeth an unlikely dream, Norrington had an empty soul, Jack a silent scream... COMPLETE
1. His Broken Heart

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_-=-_

She sits at the window every day, her fingertips resting lightly on her cheek as she stares out at the horizon. Sunrise to sunset, her occupation is watching. What she searches for, I do not know. She was fine until a fortnight ago... I want to believe that she is just missing the adventure, but I can't be entirely sure.

Perhaps it's that darkening hollow in her eyes. The emptiness becomes more apparent every day, and it kills me to look at her for very long. I try to make conversation, I try to move her from her ever-fixed position where she sighs, wrapped up in her nightdress and the folds of the drapes. She hides from me when I try to turn her attentions onto something more healthy. She won't protest openly, but she gives me the most petulant look -- as though I shouldn't be trying. 

As though she just wants to be left alone... She didn't used to mind me so much.

Sometimes I lay awake and wonder, vaguely, if she's so dreadful now because of Jack. If she misses him too terribly for me to understand. These kinds of thoughts always lead to suspicious ones, and it hurts me to think that the two of them could have been anything more than acquaintances. They never seemed particularly kind towards one another, but Jack could be a rather convincing actor, when he tried. _Did he have reason to try?_

The allusions I give myself during the night hours have haunted me for as long as Elizabeth has been a gazing statue. She couldn't be fond of him, I tell myself. But there is something about her now. Something... lacking. As though someone had taken a piece of her soul and ran away with it. 

...Sailed away with it.

The disturbingly solemn way she watches the ships arriving at the dock, the somber frown upon her face... The only thing there is left to conclude is that there is something she hasn't told me. That Captain Jack Sparrow meant infinitely more to her than she ever let on.

_-= fin =-_

Review, if you would be so kind. 


	2. Her Confidential Voice

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_-=-_

I watched him sail off the other day, his ship firmly beneath his feet and his crew reassuringly at his side. I'm very happy for him, I suppose. He got what he wanted after ten years. He took the chance of losing everything, and yet gained everything.

I tried to gain everything and ended up losing it, instead. 

He's probably very happy now; raiding, looting, pilfering... Shooting people. Aquatic warfare. And here I am: Young, married... miserable. My days spent with my forehead resting against the window, my eyes fixed on the harbor. He might tie up one day, you know. He'll tie up, swagger onto the dock, and shoot everyone in this whole place but me. 

I'll stay alive. I'll get to join him aboard _The Black Pearl_, and we'll be free together. 

Will thought I was dilusional, for thinking that Jack would even consider returning to Port Royal. That's why I stopped talking to him about it. He didn't want to hear about the possibilities of another adventue with Captain Jack Sparrow. He didn't want to hear about Tortuga, or Barbossa, or any of the other things, people, and places we met whilst at sea. He's a very nice boy, my husband, but... he's rather dull. He wants us to be the perfect family. He wants to open his own smithy, he wants me to have children, and he wants us to smile and go to garden parties... The perfectly lovely Turners.

That's what my father wants of me, as well. 

I don't want that. I really, honestly don't want that -- to sit in the drawing room doing needlepoint as William III helps his father at the smithy and little Catherine plays dolls. I've tasted immunity from everyday life now. There's no way I'm going to stay imprisoned in this Home.

I need adventure. It's an addiction. But more than adventure, I need the man who can give me one.

_-= fin =-_

I decided to turn this into a fic made up of different J/E drabbles, so there will be a few more. I'm not sure how many, but more than one. Review, if you please. 


	3. His Lack of Sympathy

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_-=-_

I was not completely surprised when Elizabeth announced she did not love me. From the moment she accepted my proposal, there was a part of me that said she wasn't going through with it for the reasons she said. She merely wanted Turner -- now her husband -- to be safe. Although I had been suspicious of an ulterior motive, I was very sad... when she stood next to Turner and broke our engagement.

_"So this is where your heart truly lies, then?"_

"It is."

At their wedding, she had seemed despairing, as though she were waiting for someone... Her foray into subliminal depression began just a week later. I heard every single detail through the mouth of Governor Swann himself. Not even _he_ could get his daughter to move from the window, where she still sits and stares with glassy eyes. 

"She doesn't move!" he said once. "Every three hours she changes position, but she doesn't _stand_, she barely eats or drinks, she only sleeps on the window seat... I'm very worried, Norrington. And Will is, too."

When I returned home shortly after hearing this news, I laughed. I did not laugh because I found Elizabeth Turner's situation amusing, or because Governor Swann and Turner were worried... I laughed, because it was obvious what was wrong and those two didn't even suspect it. 

Elizabeth was pining. For what, or whom, was also rather obvious: She wanted freedom again. She wanted to throw away what society expected of her and live a life of madcap adventures on the high seas. She wanted the world... and she wanted Captain Jack Sparrow.

This last bit of information was my favorite to know; because now William Turner II, that charming lad, will know how it feels to be rejected for someone who is ridiculously less qualified for... anything. I suppose it's Elizabeth taking my revenge for me.

And I'm still laughing.

_-=-_


	4. His Questions

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_-=-_

I sit in my cabin at night and ask myself questions. Most of them unanswerable, as personal questions always seem to be, but some... Some are just muddled, confused and out-of-order. The questions that echo in my head are such that I can't sleep. Questions about my future. About my decisions. About what purpose my life has.

The latter is always the hardest to comprehend. _What's my purpose?_ I think to myself. Easy: Pirating and being Captain of _The Black Pearl_. But there's a part of me that says the question can't be answered as simply as that. _That's what I **do**, not what I **am**_, I say. _Captain Jack is a completely different person from unadulterated, pure, simple Jack._

That shows how much attention I pay to things -- I didn't even know there _was_ an unadulterated, pure, simple Jack. I've only ever been aware of Captain Jack. At least, that's what I keep telling myself...

I'm starting to sound like a bloody madman, staring at the ceiling and carrying on strange conversations with myself, about myself. I try to tell me that Captain Jack has gotten along just fine, and that whoever this Simple Jack is has no business being here.

_Do you really think that, Jack?_

Yep.

_Tell me this, then: Who has Captain Jack ever loved or needed?_

That's a tough one. And now I'm telling myself that if Captain Jack doesn't understand the ideas of loving and needing, that Simple Jack should be here, after all. Which is damned frustrating when two people are supposedly in your head and you don't know one of them is there. Who has Simple Jack loved, I wonder?

_A young girl with fiery spirit and vicious temper._

Elizabeth? Will's woman? Now why would Simple Jack go and say a thing like that -- I didn't love her!

_You loved what you knew about her. She was you as a girl, in a way... but prettier._

Not possible.

_If you say so... But maybe **she** knows who you are. Maybe **she** knows who Simple Jack is and what he needs..._

Haha, no. She knows what _Will_ needs. They're _married_, remember? _MARRIED_.

_Maybe she didn't want to be married._

I pause to think about things, not quite sure what to say to myself. _It's worth a try..._ I say. I roll my eyes and sigh in annoyance. Fine. Onto Port Royal first thing in the morning. Who knows -- something interesting could happen.

_-= fin =-_

**A/N:** I decided to make this one longer (I was on a roll), and somewhat lighter. Hope no one minds -- I just have a hard time seeing Jack as angsty. Review, please. 


	5. His Lost Cause

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_-=-_

She thinks he's coming. I noticed it in her eyes this morning... passionate sparkles of expectation and hope. She's sitting there, staring off at the harbor and waiting for a man twice her age to rescue her from this house. _My_ house. She's waiting for the man she loves.

What happens if he never comes? What happens if she waits for him for the rest of her life, and her poor heart breaks just as mine has? What will we be then? -- Two pathetic people in complete dispair because we cannot have the people we know we're truly meant to be with? I waited for the right moment to tell Elizabeth that I loved her. I waited 'til she was engaged to someone else... Is it possible that Jack, lacking that kind of timing, would wait until she was _married_?

What if he _does_ show up? I would rather stab myself in the eye with thirty sewing needles than watch her fall into his arms, or come home to find an empty house and a small note explaining where she has gone and that she's terribly sorry she couldn't love me anymore. I will not stand off to the side and watch as she sails away with the man who helped me to save her.

It would be too much...

Or maybe it wouldn't. Part of me keeps saying that as long as she's happy, I'm happy... But I'm not sure which way I'm supposed to be going. Happy for her, or miserable with her? Content myself with waking up to a hollow, faded girl... or feel grateful to someone else because they see her eyes glowing the moment they open their own, and they can make her shine? I do want Elizabeth to be happy. Sickeningly so, but... She was supposed to be happy with me.

And she's not.

So what now? Leave for work and pray that today isn't the one in which Captain Jack Sparrow will tie _The Black Pearl_ up and come to seek my wife? It looks like it...

How awful.

_-= fin =-_


	6. Her Thrilled Little Heart

_-=-_

Will left the house with excessive hesitation this morning. He thinks I'm waiting for an opportune moment to run away. He's very wrong, of course. I can't leave until Jack gets here. Until then, I'll be content with imagining all the adventures we shall have aboard the _Pearl_. 

Any day now, he'll be here. I have to keep telling myself that... I don't want to go searching for him and have him show up whilst I'm out. Will would have a fit... and they'd worry, I'm sure, that I had gotten into very bad trouble. No... I'll just sit here and wait. 

And wait.

...And wait...

If he doesn't come by tomorrow evening, I'm leaving for him. I simply can't stand this incarceration much longer. I need to be out there, feeling the breeze and the spray of the water. I want to have a completely nonsensical, absolutely brazen Jack-filled life. Because no one else I know can give that to me. Just wonderful, fabulous, dreamily beautiful Jack.

I love him. Every eccentricity, every twitch, every breath... I love his hopes and the way he makes everything sound perfect. I love the way he smells like salt and sand and heat... I love his crooked smile. He's not flawless, by any means. He gets drunk, he gets angry, he's obsessive... but everyone is. Jack is everyone. 

But better.

That's my favorite part of him, I suppose. He may be a feared Pirate Captain, but he still _feels_ things. He has weaknesses, he has things he enjoys, he has things that are worth enough to him to obsess over. He isn't ruled by his status as Captain.

He just is... and I love him for it.

_-= fin =-_


	7. His Internal Struggle

**Disclaimer:** Not mine.

_-=-_

Well, I found Mrs. Turner. In a very horrible state of insanity, but that's better than not finding her at all. Right?

_She loves you, you know._

Yes, I gathered that from the fact that she fainted from excitement when she saw me passing outside her window. Of course, it's merely infatuation. I am a devilishly handsome gent, after all.

_You're an idiot, Captain Jack. A big, bleedin' idiot._

Come again? How am I an idiot, Simple Jack, for being extraordinarily attractive? It's not _my_ fault that I take after my mum, God bless her... whoever she was.

_Sometimes I worry about you._

Why?

_She loves you. She knows she could get in very deep trouble for even taking that sort of interest in you, and she doesn't care. Doesn't that say something to you? Hmmm?_

Um... That she's apparently as stupid as I am?

_Idiot._

What, pray tell, am I supposed to do about this? Kiss her hard on the mouth and carry her off on a bleedin' white horse into the bleedin' sunset? Heavens, the girl's _married_! Married to a friend of mine, even. Are you suggesting that I suggest a love affair to dear Mrs. Turner? If so, I'd like to make the suggestion that you're very sick.

_You're a pirate. You're not supposed to have qualms about distasteful activities._

Pervert.

_Lunatic._

... So, what _are_ you saying I should do, then? Break the poor lass's heart?

_Finish the sentence, Captain,_

Break the poor lass's heart... and possibly injure mine? Do I even have one to injure? 

_That's not at all what I'm saying. I'm saying you should talk to Will._

He'll murder me! And then where will we be? 

_Dead, obviously. But that's not the point..._

Of course it's the point! We'll be dead, Will'd be hanged, and Mrs. Turner would be completely alone. She'd probably commit suicide out of depression!

_Captain... at least ask Will what he thinks is wrong with Elizabeth. Don't mention anything suspicious, just say that you dropped by and she seemed... ill. There's no need to bring up any uneccesary confrontation._

Well... You see, what's wrong with that is... erhm... Fine. I'll go "talk to Will". But if he kills me, I'll strangle you.

_Fair enough. Just a quick question..._

What now?

_Why don't you call Elizabeth by her first name anymore?_

_-= fin =-_


	8. His Bad News

_-=-_

I'm going to kill him. He's standing behind me as though he's the king of the world, making mad gestures and talking to himself. And I'm going to kill him.

He thinks I don't know. The man thinks I don't know about he and Elizabeth and their little... _romance_. But how could I remain oblivious when she stares out the window every bloody day, waiting and hoping and praying for him?

Well, now she's got him.

He clears his throat. 

"Ehm... Will?"

"What?"

I hate him. I hate him and he's nervous. There's not a jolly, or drunk, or even slightly confused tone to his voice. Just nervous.

"Er... I... Stopped by the house today."

_Please, just drop dead now and save me the trouble of putting an axe through your skull..._

"I think Elizabeth's... um. I think she needs..."

_What, Jack? What does she need? Tell me. Perhaps I'll be enlightened and overcome this 'unfit husband' stage I seem to be stuck in..._

"Will... I don't think Mrs. Turner is..."

Can't he spit it out? He doesn't think she's getting enough attention at home. He doesn't think she's attracted to me any more. He doesn't think that she's in her right mind -- I don't care what it is he says as long as he's a man about things and gives me reason to kill him.

"Er... I think she loves me, mate."

Alright, I lied. It sounds so much worse out in the open than it does in my head, when I'm talking to myself. But here Jack Sparrow waltzes into the smithy and...

_-=-_


	9. His Sanity

**A/N:** At this time I feel I must apologize for my... absence. I have recently been swept up in Regency romance novels and things to do with Colin Firth. Anywhoo, I'm back for a while, at least, and must now bestow upon you chapter nine. I'm sorry it's not very long.

_-=-_

He's crying. Oh, God, I made him cry. This was some bloody splendid idea you had! "Don't worry", you said! "I'm sure it'll do everyone a bit of good", you said! And, and now he's --- crying his bloody eyes out, and ---- and...

_...Jack?_

What can you want with me now?! I've done every damned thing you've said, and look where it's got me, you bumbling idiot -- Will's bawling like a newborn babe, his wife's at home planning our romantical disappearance, and I'm going completely, stark-raving mad. I could kill myself for listening to a voice inside my head in the firstplace; Anamaria always said it was horribly stupid...

_Oh, gads, Jack. You're not going crazy._

How do you explain _your_ presence then, eh? Pestiferous moron!

_Jack Sparrow, many a person has had an argument with himself!_

Yes, but not with such erratic speeches, eh? Don't think you can fool me. Because of you, I have just ruined a marriage, made a grown man cry -- which I never doubted of Will, but nonetheless it's quite disturbing -- and I've got the hopes of a deranged woman up higher than the sky, while I'm sure that I can't at all fulfill them...

And I'm doubting myself. Oh hell, I never doubted anything I'd ever done until stupid Will's mad wife made you show up, and you started telling me to do things that were _highly_ unadvisable -- and now you've got me cautious! What am I going to _do_?!

_Well. I suggest you calm Will sufficiently, and then go have a very long talk with Mrs. Turner._

Damned if I listen to you ever again...

_-=-_


	10. The Unfortunate Circumstance pt 1

_-=-_

Mrs. William Turner was nearly overcome as Jack Sparrow walked through her front door, decidedly ignoring social niceties and entering without so much as a knock or "Good day". When she noticed footsteps, she turned from her windowseat only to find the exact man she had been looking for. Just because he wasn't sword-fighting Will for her love on a sandy Caribbean beach under the moon was no reason to be affronted, either. After all, he was there, and that was all that mattered.

...She had been doubting for the past few minutes.

Jack was very quiet once he had found himself in Mrs. Turner's presence -- and he couldn't quite figure out why. Before he had seen her, he was all confidence: He was going to go in there, tell her that she was a married woman, and be on his way... But then her eyes had done something funny when he had passed through the doorway. He ended up thinking, as his courage began to shrink at a rapid pace, that he wouldn't even have considered speaking to this woman were it not for the rum he had consumed earlier in the evening.

Elizabeth was shaking with excitement, Jack with absolute terror and inebriation.

"Jack!" the former said cheerfully, a smile lighting up her rather exhausted features. "I never thought you'd come back..."

He didn't know how to respond to that. _"Well, 'Lizabeth, I would've been here earlier but your husband had a bit of a breakdown -- never fear, though! I'm here to crush all your hopes as well... Didn't want you to feel left out!"_? Oh yes, that would be bloody perfect...

"Would you like to sit down?" _Sit down? Yes, by all means, I'll sit down... Prolong everyone's suffering, eh?_ He sat, directly across from her; those eyes joyously examining his features as he tried desperately to ignore hers. There was a very long silence, the both of them staring at each other, and nothing more. His heart was pounding madly in his thin chest at the thought of what he was about to do; hers was fluttering lightly at the thought of the two of them sailing away from Port Royale forever.

"So," she began, as easy as could be, although her voice trembled slightly with giddiness. "So, when will we be leaving, Jack?"

_When will we be leaving?_ He felt his jaw move a few times before any noise came out of his mouth, and when it did it was a hoarse rasp:

"Well... That's what I'm here to talk t'you about,"

"That's what I thought -- I suppose you couldn't very well leave me here waiting forever!"

_Really? Why not?... Oh, that's right: I'm s'posed to be Mature about things... Damn word. Hope it dies._

She watched him expectantly, barely able to keep herself from falling down at his feet. Right at that moment, if he asked her to do anything in the world, she would have done it in an instant. From getting him a drink to killing someone... She was completely in his power. And it wasn't even that he objected to that fact. It just wasn't...

_Honorable_...

She was Married, after all. And although Jack Sparrow liked women, he tried very hard to stay away from the ones with husbands.

After all these years, one look at Elizabeth Turner and he could tell it wasn't working. All he had to do on the journey back to the Turners was think of how excellently she had fought against Barbossa's men, how brave she had been compared to most wenches her age... 

"So... when are we leaving, Jack?"

He pressed his lips together very tight, and then exhaled through his teeth.

"We're not."

For a moment she just smiled, as though the whole thing were a very nasty joke. And then her smile slowly faded into something of a grimace.

"We're... what?" she asked breathily.

Was she going to ask him to repeat bloody everything? How he longed for the days when she was nothing but a minor character in another one of his grand adventures. When she was only the girl who taught him a pirate song on a deserted island when they were both acting quite insane... When he didn't think of her at night -- or any other time of the day.

Unfortunately, those times were long gone. He was quite stuck with his daydreams and his fantasies, his heart having been twisted into them during the process of plot developement. 

He hated to deny her anything because he was now dangerously close to being passionately in love. That ship had already sailed with Elizabeth, but so far, she thought darkly, the adventure had not been grand at all.

Perhaps, she told herself as she waited for him to finish his explanation, the idea of an adventure is much better than an actual one.

_-=-_


	11. The Unfortunate Circumstance pt 2

_-=-_

James Norrington, although he did not often exhibit symptoms of such a condition, was a horrible gossip. If there was any scandal within a five-mile radius, he had learned all the details by teatime, and was usually filling someone else in on the exploits of his absent neighbors and acquaintances. At present, nothing was happening anywhere. The young ladies of Port Royale were being abominably well-behaved, and no Gentlemen had set their affections on women of less social stature than people usually allowed. 

He was very bored, which is why he decided to call on dear Mrs. Turner.

It was not that the Commodore wished to do Mrs. Turner any harm... Towards her he was perfectly cordial, and harbored only feelings of incredulity towards the people with whom she chose to have relationships (he could not, for the life of him, understand how anyone could even _like_ William Turner). He merely wished for some form of occupation; perhaps a worsening in her condition to report to his tea companions, for although he wished the lady no harm, he could hardly resist the temptation of ruining her husband...

Under the pretext that he and Elizabeth were very dear friends, which was believable due to the evidence of his connections with her father, James did not knock when he reached the entry to the Turner residence. He simply entered with a hopeful salutation... which was not answered. So he proceeded to the drawing-room, where he found a sight that caused his eyebrows to lower, but the grave expression on his face did not at all match what he was feeling.

Elizabeth was sitting on the window-seat, entranced by a character directly across from her, who had taken his rest in an armchair. Captain Sparrow was, in turn, bewitched by Mrs. Turner. And they were just sitting there, staring at each other.

James was not a person to cause havoc, although his personality could be called vengeful. But as he stood in the doorway, watching the lovers who were watching each other, he could not help but feel that Mr. Will Turner deserved what was coming. After all, a man who encouraged a woman to disregard her word could not be called a man. At least, not a _deserving_ man, and the more he thought these things the more James Norrington desperately wanted Jack Sparrow to succeed in capturing Elizabeth's heart. And perhaps, his thoughts continued, he should assist. Unite the two of them, and watch as Will Turner came to understand the kind of hell he put James, himself, through.

To have something so perfect and then lose it so suddently...

Bitter men are almost as dangerous as scorned women.

It barely took ten seconds for him to see that Sparrow and Elizabeth were having a bit of a communication problem, and although he could only guess what they had been discussing before he had arrived, James was quite sure that he knew what to do for the three of them to end up happily. If one thing could be said of Commodore Norrington, it was that he always had a plan -- and even if it wasn't particularly grand, it got the job done.

He cleared his throat, taking a little more time to carefully select his words. "I hate to interrupt... May I have a word with you in the other room, Mr. Sparrow?"

Sparrow, after another invitation from James, slowly drew his eyes away from Mrs. Turner with his brows raised. _Surprise, of course,_ Norrington thought to himself with a smile, then added, for the Pirate's benefit: "I'm not here to arrest you, Mr. Sparrow; only to have a small discussion with you on the nature of your visit to Port Royale. We can keep to the corridor, if you like -- that way, Mrs. Turner shall be able to watch our every move."

Sparrow stood with a small nod to Mrs. Turner, and followed the Commodore out of the room and into the hall. The two of them stood there for a moment, gazing back to the woman they had just left by herself. Both of them feeling a supreme degree of pain.

"I'm afraid that I know why you are here, Mr. Sparrow," James said quietly, turning his head to better examine the man he was speaking to. 

"Is that right?" replied Sparrow, eyes still on Elizabeth. James remembered when he had treated her in that manner: she a very important person who needed constant supervision. Attentiveness bordering on reverence...

"Yes," he sighed. "and I think you all the better for it." 

"Need not do that," Sparrow muttered. "Can't make her happy, can I? Can't very well have her, either. Married woman, mate..."

James chuckled at this, both for the purpose of his plan and out of genuine amusement. "Trust me, sir," he said in a very wry tone, "No matter what the circumstance, never give up on her. You shall regret it as long as you live,"

There was a pause, and then a slightly panicked reply: "No, won't regret it... Plenty of other little wenches, y'know. Whole world full of 'em..."

"Yes," the Commodore agreed. "Yes, I'll give you that, Sparrow... But there are no 'little wenches', as you so poetically put it, that come near to being Elizabeth."

Jack Sparrow said nothing, and James took the opportunity to see himself out, satisfied that he had finally done something worthwhile. Now it was just a matter of time...

Meanwhile, Jack re-entered the drawing-room, many fuzzy thoughts whirring through his head. When he thought about it, he was positive that Norrington had been correct about Elizabeth being one of a kind. _Like me,_ he told himself, a slight bit of wonder added to the tone of his considerations. There were dozens of girls in Tortuga, for example, but he was sure that none of them could ever replace Elizabeth... and he didn't even have her.

He did not sit down this time, but merely stood in front of Mrs. Turner, who was now very ill-looking and had a shocked expression on her pretty little face.

"What did Commodore Norrington want?" she asked, raising her eyes to Jack's face.

This was the moment, and the fact hit him hard. This was the moment to gather her up and take her far away, where he could have her all to himself... When one has always been the villain, the sudden duties of the hero seem horrifying.

_Bloody stupid indecision..._

"...Jack?"

"Never mind bloody Norrington," he replied. "You might want to get your things, luv -- we leave tomorrow night."

_-=-_


	12. Their Infatuation

_-=-_

**A/N:** Okay, the first bit is something that takes place in Elizabeth's POV _before_ Jack showed up. I thought her Jack-lovin' needed a bit more explanation before I continued... And the second bit is just like a continuation of the previous chapter's scenario.

_-=-_

All of my life I have been taught to respect and appreciate works of art. My father used to bring me to museums and galleries, making sure I knew what each painting represented; the exact word each brush stroke was trying to say. "Next to form of government, Elizabeth," he would say very proudly, "art is the best way to look into the past and see how people _were_." I did not disagree with him. In fact, I still find a very large amount of truth in that simple statement.

The first thing I noticed about Jack, besides all the usual features you learn of when first becoming acquainted with a person, was that he had something about him; a surreal sort of passion for living. It was oddly familiar, although I could not place it at the time, and so refreshing. One man with a violent love for something amongst several hundred who couldn't care less was a very large contrast. It caught me off guard.

I have since learned that the expression in his eyes when he is on _The Black Pearl_ is an energy that I have only ever seen in paintings.

Through the course of our escapade, I slowly began wondering things. My feelings for Will were not changed, but I had been thinking about Jack considerably more that I should have. I wondered if he was any good at relating his stories to other people; whether or not he would ever allow me to be a listener; and, more frequently, what it was like to be a member of his crew. Anamaria, the only other female on board, was treated with equality because she could do her part. I wondered, in the little breaks we had, if I could ever show them that I was capable of work.

When Barbossa and his men were pursuing us on the ocean, I had my last question answered. The peculiar thing was this: while several people died, while I was not used to any type of warfare and had no experience at all, I was having the most enjoyable day of my life. I had responsibilities that did not involve looking beautiful, getting married _or_ having children, which was very odd. 

And Jack, however unaware he may have been, had given me the opportunity to prove that I was more than a silly little girl who lived in fantasy worlds.

It wasn't until after he had fallen off the battlement that I began to wonder about life again. Surely it wouldn't be filled with the same excitement that Will and I had experienced, but it couldn't be just how we had left it? At least, that is what I thought... and I was very wrong. It was dull again: filled with imitation smiles and polite greetings, and I knew I would grow old and die in a world that didn't do anything at all...

My mother used to say that I was a girl who didn't know what she wanted, only how she wanted it. I think it describes me quite well. For the month between our engagement and our wedding, I was hoping that Will would whip out a sword and the two of us could steal a Navy ship. But I knew he would never do such a thing -- he is much too good to steal for pleasure, or to make it seem as if he had designs against my honor. That was when I began to miss Jack, and his absolute lack of ethics. Jack, and his brazen way of saying exactly what he thought or felt due to extermination of tact. I was so accustomed to people paying polite compliments and making polite conversation, always afraid of offending or causing a rift between to families because of their _real_ opinions...

When Will and I converse, he agrees with me on nearly every subject. I suppose this is something most people think unnatural, but I am so numb to it that I wish someone would simply tell me that I'm wrong. Provoke me to any emotion, because I've felt nothing but longing since I've been married.

_-=-_

"Tomorrow night?" Jack smirked as Elizabeth's eyes widened, an amazed look spreading over her face. "Jack, I -- we -- _Tomorrow night_!"

"Aye, luv, tomorrow night. 'Nuff time to pack, isn't it?"

She beamed at him, and a very peculiar feeling made itself known. A warm, gentle feeling. He would have shuddered at the very thought, but Elizabeth drew his attention away quite suddenly by throwing her arms around his chest, pulling him very close, and setting her head against his shoulder with closed eyes. Jack wasn't quite sure how to respond. He had seen people behave in this manner several times, and it seemed to be a sign of affection, but he had never been on the giving or recieving end of one of these... _embraces_, as people seemed to call them. He wondered what he was supposed to do. For a moment he considered placing his arms around her in a similar fashion, but as he considered, a vivid picture came to his mind.

Will Turner, sitting on a table in the smithy, looking ready to die.

The peculiar feeling vanished instantly, and Jack no longer found himself staring down at Elizabeth, but Mrs. Turner. This was going to be bleedin' awful.

But before he spoke, he hesitated. As a pirate, he was used to being selfish. Sometimes you had to fight for what you wanted, and in fighting people get hurt. He desperately wanted Eliz... Mrs. Turner. Words couldn't express how perfect she felt, hair falling over his shoulder, little puffs of air escaping her mouth and wandering over his jaw. But then there was bloody Will, who had already gone through quite a bit for his wife. Bloody Will, who had proved his worth twenty times over. Bloody stupid Will, who wanted her nearly as passionately as Jack did.

_I suppose it all comes down to dear Mrs. Turner,_

"Elizabeth," he said quietly, "Luv... I need you to do something before we can go -- before you can even get ready to leave."

"Anything," was the reply, which came without a single movement other than that of her lips.

_Anything... _

"You need to speak to Will, dearest."

He expected at least a minor argument, perhaps an annoyed acceptance. What he got was completely unexpected.

She looked up at him, raising her head from his shoulder, and placed a small kiss on his mouth.

"Alright," she said. 

He left that night with equal amounts of hope and dread lingering in his stomach, but on top of the two was an eerie layer of excitement. He had been kissed by a beautiful woman, and for the first time in his life he wasn't starving for anything more.

_-=-_


	13. Their Minor Confrontation

_-=-_

She's not going to be there when I get home. They never are. In every book I've read -- read because She was reading it -- The Hero shows up and whisks the Young Girl away, never to see her family again. The Hero saves her from anything that could cause the smallest amount of woe: an arranged marriage, money problems, unwanted suitors... No, She's not going to be there. No woman alive could resist the charms and temptations of Captain Jack Sparrow.

There are some times I wish I were a drunkard. Then, perhaps, this moment would be comical. I would stumble through my front door, having become heavily inebriated during the drowning of my sorrows, and find an empty house. But I'll be too damned drunk to care.

Unfortunately, I'm very sober at the moment.

The door is pushed open with relative ease, no sound is heard. It feels as an empty house might -- Oh, but it's not an empty house anymore. Now, at least, there's me.

The corridor seems vacant. Not a breath from the kitchen. Well, now that She's left me, I think I shall go and close those abominable drapes in the drawing ---

"Will?"

She's _here_. 

"Will, is that you?"

She comes out of the drawing room, chewing her bottom lip and twisting part of her nightdress between her fingers. 

"Oh," I say, "You're -- you're still here,"

She nods, and says very quietly: "Will... we need to have a talk."

"Alright," I say. There's not much else _to_ say in this situation. 

There is a very long pause. She's still twisting her nightdress, looking up at me with apologetic eyes. I can't say what I'm feeling. I can't tell her that I'm angry, or hurt, or that I want to die. She's still Elizabeth. I still love Elizabeth. _Why do I still love Elizabeth?_ Yes... Occupy my mind with counting her virtues...

"Er... Jack came to see me."

_Goodness. Elizabeth is very good._

"How surprising," This isn't working... Her goodness brings about Sarcasm. Perhaps my thought was Sarcastic to begin with?

"We're... leaving tomorrow night,"

_Honest. She's very honest -- she's being honest right now!_

"How nice for you." And I don't seem to care.

"I wanted to say I was sorry, Will, before I left..." She bites her lip again, trying very hard to think of anything that might make me feel a bit better. Hopefully she'll come up with something. "I -- I just don't know how to... what I'm supposed to..."

_Kind... She is the very essence of kind..._

"It's not your fault, Will."

_She may be beautiful, she may be born of high social standing, her character may have a few minor defects, but she is still dear Elizabeth. Convinced that she's right, and trying to let people know in the kindest way her temperment allows._

"I know that," I say, still trying to think of her perfections. "If it were my fault, I would be the one apologizing."

_-=-_


	14. The End

_-=-_

She left, and it was very easy. In her mind she had created a vision of gunshots and swordfights, she and Jack running for their lives as they were pursued by officers with designs on Jack's life. Perhaps Will showing up and making a scene.

That didn't happen. She left her house from the front door, not through the window, and there was no need for running. Jack was waiting with the _Pearl_, calmly rocking in the subtle waves as she boarded the pirate vessel.

Jack grinned at her. 

For the past few weeks she had spent sitting at the window, Elizabeth Turner had developed a horrible sense of dread and depression in her thoughts. Of course there was hope, but hope always lingers where no one expects it. But as she stood on _The Black Pearl_, with Jack Sparrow's arms around her, she felt the malign forces ebb away. She was, although it was somewhat hard to believe, very happy.

She told Jack of this transformation early one morning as they held each other close. He didn't reply with words, but kissed her cheek very softly, and took her hand in his.

Somehow, it was enough.

The years passed, as they have a habit of doing, and brought about many adventures -- along with a few children to hear of them. Jack Sparrow II, who was more commonly called "Tock", came first; then Robert, or "Robbie". Margaret ("Maggie") and Cordelia ("Cordey") followed, not far behind each other; and at the very end, a fine little boy named William Turner Sparrow.

Nights on the _Pearl_ were generally calm, with the children sitting at their father's feet as he told stories by request. Tock preferred the intriguing tale of how Barbossa had been defeated; Robbie fancied the one where a little village in Eastern India had made his father their chief, after he had single-handedly saved them from a plague, and two armies of head-hunters. Maggie and Cordey adored the tale of how the captain of _The Black Pearl_ had decided to become a pirate; but little Will, for some strange reason, always asked for how his parents had first become acquainted.

"Now," Jack Sparrow I said, furrowing his eyebrows and looking his youngest child in the eye. "Why is it you _always_ pic this story, eh?"

Will shrugged. "I like hearing about you and Mum," 

Jack Senior sighed overdramatically, muttering about romantical thoughts in the head of young boys, and began the tale with as much enthusiasm as one can ever have when telling a love story.

"It all started with water..."

Later, Captain Sparrow and Elizabeth remained awake as the dark carefully consumed every trace of daylight. She kissed his jaw, and said: "Which story was it tonight?"

He laughed, then sighed. "The wonderful tale of how I saved you from a corset, little Will's idea of course."

"Of course..."

They exhaled in unison. Although neither of them would say it out loud, both wondered whether or not it had been a very good idea to give William Turner II a namesake. But, of course, it was the least they could do. After all, his wife _had_ been... waylaid.

However bad they might have felt about ruining Mr. Turner's happiness did not make them any more guilty. After all, they were happy, their children were happy, and that was the main priority on their list.

_-=-_


End file.
